Sythian's Gorge
by Chianna
Summary: A blight has come to the house of Thranduil. A great seer sends Legolas on a quest to vanquish the evil in Sythian's Gorge. Legolas gets help from our favorite ranger! **Chapter 8** UPDATED!
1. Signs and Portents

Title:  Sythian's Gorge

Author:  Chianna (oceans63@swbell.net)

Rating:  PG – 13. You know, mostly the standard mayhem, slaying and maiming.\Main Characters: Aragorn, Legolas and there is one other…

Disclaimer:  (Insert standard disclaimer here) I am poor and own nothing but my own imagination.

Summary:  Blight has come to the house of Thranduil and threatens the life of the King and his line.  A great seer sends the elven prince Legolas on a quest to vanquish the evil in Sythian's Gorge.  But first, he must go to Rivendell and seek one from the House of Elrond that is not of Elrond's House.  

Sythian's Gorge – Prelude to a Tale

Afore a path most dark and dreary

His horse pawed ground, perchance most leery.

The dark and hooded rider's needful deed

Wouldst him ignore warnings of the steed.

A prince of honor made request of his house

Before events of dark portent did rouse

A fabled evil, a contagion 'pon fair elven land

To only be quelled by steadfast heart and warrior's hand.

Called out in need, a wrong to mend

His strong arm and sword, his only tools to lend

An abiding bond of friendship he must forge

To drive the gathering storm from Sythian's Gorge. 

Chapter 1 

Evil stole in to the fair wood elf hold like foul wind.  History does not record how the evil deed was committed.  Only the signs and portents heralded the beginning of a blight on the princely house of this kingdom ruled by the wise and noble Thranduil.

Cassia was the first to sense the ill omens.  One of the oldest and wisest of the wood elves of the Mirkwood forest, she chose to live separate from the rest of the elven community.  It was said that within Cassia, the Sylvan elf tendencies for isolation and aloofness were honed to a level as in no other.  Some speculated that her gifts had driven her from the company of most of her elven brethren.  For it is said that to bear the knowledge of the fate of many is a soul-wearying task indeed.

Whether, because of her age or some other element of her making, Cassia was slight, with soft almost round features, lacking the angular planes and mien and limb of those around her.  Many millennia had softened the features of her face, yet her eyes were a roadmap to the beauty of the soul and the triumphs and grief that she had seen.  These youthful, sparking gray-green eyes reflected the dappled hues of her beloved woods and saw far beyond the mists of the forest, distance and time.

Cassia had first seen the darkening of the woods near the King's glade from her remote cottage three days ago.  The last two nights she had dreamed dreams.  In them she saw the house of Thranduil slowly, inexorably sinking.  The light about the castle was fading, as what it illuminated was slowly swallowed by the evil quagmire that was sucking at its foundation.  It was time that she returned to the company of her kindred.  It was time to warn the prince…

No Legolas or Aragorn in this chapter – but they're coming...

Reviews and suggestions are always welcome.  A writer's greatest reward is inspiring any response to their work.  Indifference is failure.    


	2. A Quest Begins

**Just a few notes of thanks for the wonderful and helpful reviews and emails.**

**Evil Old Woman – A Legomance?  Never heard it referred to as that before (I'm new to this writing universe) but when I read it, I LMAO. Ewwwww.  Absolutely not!   (though I might not rule it out in some sort of story later for either Legolas or Aragorn) Thanks for the chuckle.  Yes I am writing a kind of romance in another universe – Trek - Enterprise, but even those stories are, I hope, more action-oriented.  I'm an old-fashioned swashbuckler at heart.  And though aesthetically speaking I find Legolas quite yummy, my heart belongs to Aragorn.  My goal is to write to please fans of both.  **

**Lassemista – Thank you for the comment about perfecting the cliffhanger, however to quote the Average White Band, hopefully "you ain't seen nutt'n yet."**

**Wild Iris – Your right about the poetry – Ahhhh, but you know I had to try and it was fun in a painful – oh my gosh, where did I put that rhyming dictionary - kind of a way.  Free verse would be easier, but I was attempting to stay closer to Tolkein's style, though out of timidity I only attempted couplets.  **

**Serena – How very astute of you.  In fact, using Cassia's name was kind of a tip of the hat.  It was C & S's stories that I happened on by accident – by way of the Star Wars universe – that inspired me to take up this tale.  Cassia does not in the least sound elven, but I'd like to think that her ancient age and unknown lineage might somehow explain her unusual name.  Also, my love of the classics is showing.  Cassia's name reminded me of a certain greek woman (Cassandra) who had the gift of precognition.  Lucky for my Cassia that her people take her visions more seriously.  **

**Thank you again for all your comments.**

**And now, gentle reader, I offer you my next installment…**

**Chapter 2 – A Quest Begins**

Legolas had been leading a hunting party for the last three days.  It had been shockingly unsuccessful.  There seemed to be a heavy air about the woods of his home forest.  The band ventured far south of their ordinary hunting grounds.  Legolas was in the company of one of he King's stewards, Ilandrel, who had long been a mentor and friend.  It was Ilandrel who had taught the young prince hunting and wood's craft.  Legolas was not pleased with the apparent lack of success, but Ilandrel seemed even more concerned.  He watched the animal trails for sign.  He looked to the empty streams and bare trees, normally teaming with game.   Legolas saw his own concerns mirrored and amplified in the older elf's face.  If the Ilandrel was perplexed with all his years of experience, something unique and likely vile was afoot.  

The hunting party followed the animal trails south, yet crossed no paths of orc, warg or other predator that would cause such a mass flight of the wildlife from Mirkwood.  

"The woods, my Prince.  It is most unnatural."

Legolas gazed at the elder, "If you are perplexed, good Ilandrel, I am completely at a loss. Have you ever seen or heard of the like before?"

Ilandrel shook his head grimly and returned his gaze to the trail sign that they were following south.  The hunting party had switched from hunting for meat to hunting for answers.

Yet the answers, or at least some, would be found back in the direction from where they had begun.

Suddenly, the young elf prince heard a sound at the rear and twisted in the saddle as he notched his bow in one fluid movement.  Under normal circumstances, he might not have take such drastic protective measures - but these were far from normal circumstances.  A mere half beat later the other members of the party followed suit.  All in the party had been affected by the unnatural stillness of the forest.

Another elf on horseback broke from the trees.  He was wearing the familiar colors of the palace guard.  At sight of this, the party breathed a collective sigh of relief, though none were yet prepared to disarm.  A castle guardsman sent after a simple hunting party even with the prince in attendance was unusual.  

"Greetings to the party!" hailed the approaching soldier.

"Well met, Galandir."

The elf, Galandir, was of the same age as Legolas and for a moment they were not Prince and soldier, but one friend greeting another.  Galandir cocked his head to one side and with and ironic smile noted, "Well met indeed my Prince, when the meeting is done at arrow's point."

For a moment the concerns of the last few days were forgotten as Legolas and the rest of his party chuckled.  Legolas countered, "If we had known that it was your sharp wit to greet us, we would have not lowered our bows."  It was not long that the group sobered as Galandir reported recent events surrounding the castle and its King.  

"There is something wrong with the King, Legolas, and you are needed at home."

It would have taken a keen observer to note the way Legolas tensed, but Ilandrel was an experienced reader of sign. The elder took in how the prince strained forward slightly in the saddle, as the knuckles in his right hand turned white from the grip he hand on the pommel. 

Legolas looked back at his mentor, the amiable young elf banished, as the warrior took his place.  "Ilandrel, you are with me."

The two tore down the narrow path as the others followed close behind.

***---***---***---***---***

Legolas reined in his horse at the last possible moment as they approached the main gates of the subterranean caverns that marked the entrance to his home.  Gravel from the horse's hooves had not yet settled as the prince quickly dismounted.  The great double doors opened before he reached the top of the steps that he had flown over two at a time.  

Legolas strode into the great hall and all those in attendance parted like the water in the wake of a great ship.  All but one.  She stood at the steps of a staircase that lead to the private living quarters of the royal family.  As he approached, only for her, he slowed his stride.  

"Cassia?  What has happened?  I was told that my father is ill."  

As the prince pulled even with Cassia, she placed a calming hand on his arm.  "Ease your mind, young one.  Thranduil is resting in his rooms."  

Legolas looking into her eyes, searching her face for any news that she might be holding back.  As if reading his mind, Cassia added, "There are magicks happening in Mirkwood that do not bode well, young one.  I will not try to deceive you.  Yet, there is still time to reverse what is happening here."  She reached up and soothed his cheek.  Was it so long ago, since she used to have to bend down to do the same to quell the young prince's fears?  "Go speak to your father, he needs to see that you are well.  Come back to me and I will explain as much of what is happening as is in my power to comprehend."  

***---***---***---***---***

The chamber where the king resided was large and well appointed, yet it lacked the overblown opulence one might expect in a human king's chambers.  The walls were draped in an almost luminescent cloth that reflected the rich colors of the forest.  It seemed to change hues as one walked through the room.  A carpet to quiet one's steps lay in the colors of fallen leaves - gold, crimson and all the shades of rich, deep brown.

In his bed, lay the king, comfortably ensconced in pillows, reviewing documents that an attendant nearby had obviously supplied.  If it were not for the lateness of the day, Legolas would not have sensed that anything was a miss.  

As soon as he saw his son standing in the doorway, Thranduil motioned him to come and take a seat on the bed.  The king turned over the papers to the attendant and gestured for all others but his heir to leave the room.  Such was his command as king that so much could be accomplished with so little being said.  

The kings greatest concern as reflected in the next words he spoke.  

"You are well, my son?"

With just a touch of exasperation and a smile, Legolas replied, "Yes, of course, father.  It is I who am wondering at your health."  Legolas thought, his father did indeed look a bit paler and thinner than normal, yet he in no way seemed gripped by a life threatening illness so foreign to such immortal beings.    

His confusion was evident to one who knew him so well.  With a wry smile, the king wondered aloud, "You thought me a death's door?  I'm sorry to have worried you Legolas, but Cassia believed that your immediate presence was needed.  I simply have not been feeling well these last few days since you left.  Today, I passed out while presiding over a meeting about improvements to some of the caverns after the rains this year.  Cassia arrived soon after.  She has been to our tree, Legolas.  It is suffering from blight and she believes that dark magic ties my weakness and our tree's illness."

Legolas could not remember a time when his father was not strong and healthy.  Nor could he fathom that anything could happen to his family's oaken tree.  It was a source of strength for all those of his line.  It had sheltered him as played as a youngling under its shade and supported him as he climbed or slept hidden amongst its leaves.  He could hide for hours from all eyes but Cassia's.  She alone could spot him even when he was way above the ground, practicing stealthy maneuvers against foes only furnished by a young elf's vivid imagination.  

"Is there anything that can be done?"  

Thranduil looked upon his son with a mixture or pride and concern.  "Yes, son.  That is why you were called back.  Cassia's vision foretells that you are the one that can bring healing to the Great Oak."  He left unstated that his life might hang in the balance as well. It did not need to be said, as he could see the love, concern and even a little fear reflected in his son's face.  The king placed his hand and the young elves shoulder and squeezed it affectionately.  "Go to Cassia.  She will explain better than I.  Know that my love and faith in my son and the Prince of Mirkwood go with you - always."  

Words failed the young Prince at these words of his father.  He took one look last long look at his father, as if to commit every careworn feature to memory.  He nodded once and turned and left his father – possibly never to see him again.  

***---***---***---***---***

When Legolas inquired as to Cassia's whereabouts, he was told that she was awaiting him in the glade of the Great Oak.  He found her not in the glade, but at a short distance from it, on a hill overlooking the sacred grove. He almost missed her, transfixed as he was by the sight that lay ahead of him.

The oak seemed to have a lichen-like growth progressing up the trunk of the tree. It was a sickening gray-green of a shade that Legolas had not seen in nature.  Leaves from the tree littered the ground where none should be.  Even the air around the tree seemed heavy and still.  And as the wind would change, a whiff of decay reached the pair even at this distance.

"Legolas, my son, it is not safe to approach any closer."  Her words seemed to shake the younger elf from his trance.

"What evil is this, Cassia?  How could this happen so near the heart of the our land?"  

"By what means this occurred, I know not, Legolas.  But this I do know - In a dream I saw the origin of this evil in a gap in the Mirkwood Mountains called Sythian's Gorge."

"Fine.  I will gather a compliment of the palace guard and proceed to this gorge at once."  Legolas turned to lead, but was halted by Cassia's quiet voice.

"No Legolas, you must not.  This is a quest for you alone.  There is only one other that you must seek out.  You must proceed to Rivendell and ask Elrond for the assistance of a male from his house that is not of his house."

"Cassia, could you be anymore cryptic?  And why would I want to go two weeks out of my way to get assistance when we live only four days ride from the Mirkwood Mountains?"

Instead of being offended, the elder elf looked up at the young prince with kind, wise eyes.  "All I can tell you is that the success of your quest and more relies and the alliance that you forge with the one who you will meet in Rivendell.  Have ever I led you falsely, youngling?"

Mildly chastised at the gentle words, Legolas shook his head.  

"There is more Legolas.  I have seen that your trip to Rivendell will go speedily and unchallenged.  I know not why, except that the evil plaguing us may think your leave-taking to be of some benefit to their cause.  This disease seems as slow as it is relentless. You will have some time.  But, your return will be fraught with many dangers.  Legolas, you will hold the life of your companion in your hands three times.  Know this, grasp it well and hold it dearly, for you hold your own and that of many others as well – both now and for the future." 

Cassia reached to the young elf's face with both her hands and held it gently.  "Be safe, youngling.  You are quite dear to me as if you were my own.  I know not of your future as I can see that of so many others.  It may be you are rare among men or elves, as you seem to have some power over your own fate.  I sense the same of the one in Rivendell." 

"I will do my best for both my father and you.  Take care of him Cassia."  

Cassia nodded as he took his leave and wished with all her heart that she had not sent this precious one to his own destruction.

Within the hour, Legolas had chosen the two finest horses in his father's stable and left for Rivendell.

TBC…

Action, I promise – soon, soon, soon…


	3. Between A Rock and Nothing Else

Disclaimer:  See First Chapter.

**Notes:  Sorry this is a bit short.   The holidays are draining in more ways then one.   I could sure use someone familiar with the Tolkien Bestiary, to bounce some ideas against.  Give me a holler @ oceans63@swbell.net if you are interested.  Thank you for your interest in my little tale and you patience with its progress.  **

Chapter 3 – Between A Rock and Nothing Else… 

Legolas flew through the forest of Mirkwood as if a pack of wargs was giving chase.  He only stopped when darkness made travel unsafe and to swap a horse for the fresher mount.   Taurtathar, _Forest Willow, _had been his horse for several years.  She was his mount of choice and as sure footed as a mountain goat.   He brought a gelding, Rilruin, Bright Flame, named for his shining chestnut coat, for his endurance in the flatlands.  

Even with Cassia's prediction that his travels would be uninterrupted, Legolas decided that staying away from the Old Forest Road would be a wise safeguard. Picking his way through the thick forest with confidence that few other than a Sylvan elf could demonstrate.

He finally reached the Anduin. Caution drove him to cross the river north of the Old Ford.  He swam the horses across at a narrowing of the Great River, quietly thankful that the season of rains had passed.  The most strenuous part of the journey was crossing the Misty Mountains.  Once Legolas and the horses ascended beyond the tree line, he found that he often had to dismount to lead the horses as he negotiated the ledges that were the only paths along the sheer mountain faces.  

As his pace slowed over this dangerous climb, Legolas could not shake the feeling of being watched.  Maybe his breakneck speed along the forest and river plain had dulled his senses.  Perhaps, he pondered, the fears for his father and his home of the last few days were praying on his imagination.  As he bedded down for the night, all he knew was that even in the darkness he sensed some _otherness_ out beyond the light of his meager fire.

When he started out again, just before first light, the feeling of being watched was still there tickling at his consciousness like a hot breath breathing on his neck.  

At one particularly tight pass, Legolas thought he heard a sound.  But how could is sound like it was coming from above him.  He stepped to the neck of the lead horse as if to adjust the bridle.  The wind whipped his hair about him, bringing to mind golden fire dancing around his shoulders.  

"Do you hear it too, Taurtathar?" Legolas breathed the question gently into the horses ear.  Whether in agreement or simply responding to a whisper that tickled her ear, Tuartathar nodded gently.

Just as he believed he had isolated where the sound was coming from, Legolas heard a crack from just below his feet.

The warning sound was barely enough to grasp Taurtathar's reins before the ground beneath him gave way.  Legolas had no way of knowing if the whole side of the cliff was going to give way, but his instinct and quick elven reflexes served him well.  In mere seconds three things happened in quick succession.  First, the reins drew taught as they took the weight of the elf.  The strain on the reins telegraphed directly from Legolas's wrist to his shoulder as the short free fall was checked.  Next, Taurtathar, well trained from birth, braced her legs as her head and shoulders bowed at the weight and her rear hooves acted as anchors for her load. Finally, the rein held taught over the side of the cliff's edge acted as a pivot point, causing Legolas to swing hard against the cliff wall.  The impact was taken by his already strained shoulder – yet, miraculously, his grip held.  

A new problem presented its self almost immediately.  Legolas's right arm and shoulder were stretched well over his head and try as he might, he could barely swing his left arm to reach his right wrist much less grasp the rope and climb.  He then attempted to try and get a handhold on cliff face.  The broken piece had sheered, leaving vertical grooves in the rock wall.  The grooves were too wide to jam a fist or foot in to get any purchase.  The rope was biting into the palm of his hand and he could feel a dangerous slickness develop where the leather cut into his palm.  

Maybe it was his struggles that radiated up the length of the reins to the bridle or maybe it was just sheer impatience on Taurtathar's part, but suddenly the rope lurched up.  Taurtathar was backing up along the path, trying to pull her rider back to solid footing.  The lack of hand or foothold and the wrenching of his arm and shoulder prevented the elf from giving more assistance.  Instead Legolas offered the straining mare gentle words of encouragement.  

"Come, sweet forest willow, it's my blessing that you bend so well.  Pull for me and tomorrow might you will be bedded in Rivendell in a warm stall with sweet clean hay and all the oats you can eat."  

Taurtathar may have been responding to the sounds of the words spoken like a lover's plea or like many a horse, knew her favorite treat when it was mentioned.  Nonetheless, she heaved one last time and pulled the exhausted prince over the edge. Almost too entusiastic, she practically pulled him to his feet.  

Legolas leaned heavily into his mare's neck, resting his forehead and gulping breath's to fill his lungs and master the pain in his hand and shoulder.  

"Sweet girl," he whispered into her ear.  She seemed to agree as she reached back to gently nuzzle her rider's shoulder.  He reached in the saddlebag and found one of his shirts.  He bit down on the hem and with one hand ripped strips of cloth to bind the friction burn across his palm.  There was nothing he could do with his shoulder.  At least it was not dislocated.  Though under normal circumstances, Legolas would rather have led the two horses, he grasped the pommel with his left hand and swung himself awkwardly into the saddle.  Exhausted, he decided that he trusted the mare's sure footedness more than his own.  Soon, the pass would widen as they continued their descent to Rivendell.

The best he could do to immobilize the shoulder was to tuck his right hand into his tunic.  No more listening to strange sounds.  He decided to trust Cassie's words that he was safe from attack.  Tomorrow he would reach Elrond.  After than there would be plenty of time to be on his guard.  

TBC…

I write for the love of the tale but have to admit that the feedback doesn't hurt either (shameless feedback devil planted firmly on right shoulder).  Happy Holidays and may you all have tickets firmly in hand on Dec. 18th!


	4. Are You Sure He Is The One?

Disclaimers:  See the first chapter.

Authors Notes:  You're right.  Elves don't need saddles or bridles according to literature.  But being a horse person and having some experience with riding bareback (not all of it actually staying on the horse's back), I had some problems with envisioning this as I dare say the makers of the movie did as well (though they may have had more realistic concerns for the actor's and stunt double's safety).  

True I'll give you that elves have quite a few years more than the average human to master this.  The romanticism of the connection between elves and their mounts is undeniably attractive.  But for the life of me, I just could not imagine trying that on a campaign-long trek? Over mountains? Fording rivers? Chased by Orcs?

Where do you put your spare weaponry? bedroll? provisions?  You think you get saddle sore?  You won't believe the muscles you'll find trying to maintain your seat bareback for even just a couple of hours.  Packing provisions, backpack style would simply add to the strain.

There is a style of bitless bridle that is gaining in popularity now that actually harkens back to ancient peoples that were know for their respect and communion with their horses – the Parthian's of ancient Persia (now Iraq) and Numidians of Northern Africa circa 200 BC come to mind.  It's a pity to think it's taken us two millennia to catch on.  

So, I hope that you can imagine this compromise with me.  I happen to see the elves riding Arabians with their elegant lines and fleetness of foot – I know they are a bit small for elves – just think _bigger_ than average Arabians ;-)  - OK, another compromise)

Chapter 4 - **Are You Sure He Is The One?**

It was a very weary prince who finally descended in to Rivendell.  Legolas broke his promise to Taurtathar.  It had taken an extra day to circle around a slide that had covered the pass that he had chosen. He hoped his new traveling companion would know a safer way across the Misty Mountains.  He prayed he could keep his promise, unlike the one to Taurtathar, to his father and his people.  

Legolas knew that he should take the time to clean up and look a bit more presentable to enter Rivendell, much less Lord Elrond house. He was just too exhausted to worry about such trivial matters.  He had known Lord Elrond most of his life and knew he was a compassionate and understanding leader. 

The sun was setting as the two weary horses and Legolas approached the gate way to Rivendell. Legolas was always struck by airiness and grace of the architecture of this fair elven stronghold.  The spires of Rivendell rose to mimic the mountains framed in the distance.  His kingdom was protected by its subterranean design and surrounding woods. Rivendell was protected by the enchantments upon the river and surrounding area. 

He was not surprised when his entrance to the city was heralded in advance of his approach. By the time he reached Elrond's house, the door was open and the elven leader was framed in the portal and flanked by his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Legolas would have been perfectly satisfied to take either of these two older elf's to deal with the evil in Sythian's Gorge. Legolas had known them long and knew that they were fine strong fighters. Their sister, Arwen Brightstar, was roughly Legolas's age. Since he had known the family for so long, he could not figure out whom Cassia might be referring to in Elrond's household. 

"Greetings, Prince Legolas," Elrond remarked with some gravity. It was obvious to the prince that Elrond was aware of, at least in part, the nature of his errand.  The twins simply nodded.  The prince knew that their assistance would be openly offered, if needed. 

Elrond motioned for the prince to walk beside him. The elven lord led them to a great walled garden. In such peaceable surroundings, the young prince felt at more ease. They sat at a wrought iron table decorated with vines and flowers so lifelike that one might think that they would sway in a breeze. Legolas was pleased to note Arwen's entrance as she brought a tray of refreshments to her father and brothers. She favored him with sweet smile and sat between her brothers. 

"Legolas, tell us, how fares your father?" questioned Elrond. Legolas related all that led to his arrival of Rivendell and finished with Cassia's odd pronouncement. 

"Looking at your family, I just do not understand what Cassia means when she said that I am looking for one from Elrond's house who is not of the house of Elrond." Legolas is not surprised as he noticed the looks of surprise exchanged by the various members of the family. He knew enlightenment would soon follow. 

"It's been almost fifty years since you last visited us with your father, Legolas. Almost twenty years ago a young Dunedain was entrusted to my care. He has become like a son to this house. In this house, he is known as Estel."

"I can't think of the better opening then that father."

Unnoticed until this point, a shadow emerged from behind one of the pillars. With a gentle sigh, Elrond moved to make explanation. 

"This, Legolas, is my youngest. "

With an ironic and yet not disrespectful smile, Estel noted, "You may have noticed a lack of family resemblance."

"This can't possibly be what Cassia was thinking of," Legolas muttered to himself. When Arwen looked down and covered her mouth with her hand trying to hold back her mirth, Legolas knew that the elven ears around him were witness to his frustration. When he glanced at Estel, he found that his ears were quite sensitive as well. Thunderclouds seemed to chase themselves across the young Dunedain's face. 

Elrond struggled to hide his own amusement. "If you have reported Cassia's precise phrasing, I can think of no other she could be referring to then Estel."

Legolas addressed his next comment directly to the young Dunedain. "I mean no offense, but I can think of no use for the skills of one your age."

Elladan unnoticed his younger brother's veiled eyes that hid his anger from all but those knew him best. "Estel has skills beyond the average Dunedain. He had to keep up with Elrohir and I, of course." Elladan shot an amused look at his brother, Elrohir. It seemed that these two had the long running knack for tweaking their younger sibling. And Elrond had just about enough of this lighthearted chatter at his youngest's expense. 

"This is a serious manner. Let's treat it is such. Legolas, Estel may be young, especially by our terms, but he has skills and talents that will be of service to you in such a quest. Cassia's word has been too often correct for us to supplant her judgment with our own." As one looked round the table, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that discussion on this topic had ceased. To punctuate thus, Elrond gracefully rose from the table and added, "You must be tired of the long journey. Rooms have been made up for your comfort. I will personally see to it that provisions are prepared for your trip. It is late and we have already had our evening meal. Can I have our kitchen bring a tray for you before you rest for the evening?"

Legolas was not sure that he was finished with discussion, but maybe in the morning when he was well rested, some solution might come to him. He rose a little stiffly from his chair, favoring his right arm. Elrond took note for the first time that young elf was favoring it. A look of concern crossed his face as he added, "Is all well Legolas? Is there something wrong with your arm?"

"I had a minor accident - just a rope burn on my palm. I might have retched my shoulder a bit, but nothing serious." Legolas have not even thought of his injuries until Elrond brought it to his attention. 

"I will follow you to your room. I have a healing salve that will take the sting out of your hand and help your shoulder." Elrond made as if to follow the young elf to his room when Arwen interrupted.

"Father, you've had a long day. Let me see to Legolas's needs. It has been an age since he and I visited." Elrond looked fondly on his young daughter. She'd been away for so long studying the healing arts. It would provide an opportunity to practice these and catch up with an old friend. 

"If Legolas's has no objection..."

"I would be pleased for Arwen's company." Legolas's was sincere as he said this. As an only child, he had always enjoyed the camaraderie of Elrond's three children. Indeed, though his visits were rare, he had a brotherly fondness for Arwen. 

Elrond smiled kindly at the two. "Sleep well. We shall see you in the morning."

* * * ___* **___* **___* **___* **

Legolas sat on the bed and Arwen in a chair as she smoothed salve into the palm of his hand and gently wrapped a new bandage around it to protect his wound. Legolas was not surprised when Arwen took this opportunity to voice a concern. 

She looked up from his hand, and smiled almost apologetically. "I hope you're not offended, but have grown quite forthright in speaking my opinions to my brothers, so I rarely leave my concerns unvoiced. I have noticed since my return home that my father has grown quite fond of Estel. Yet I fear that, though we all look of the same age, he may forget that in actual years and experience, there is quite a difference between Elladan, Elrohir and Estel. He is a fine man, but I am not sure he is up to the task that you are to undertake."

"Your father is a wise leader, Arwen. I must trust his judgment as well as Cassia's. I have to have faith that this will work out - even if I have my own doubts."

"An endorsement such as this? How can I fail but to be flattered."

The two elves, slightly startled, looked toward the doorway. Leaning up against one side of the doorjamb was Estel, his arms crossed and his face unreadable. 

Exasperation covering her embarrassment, Arwen rebuked, "Estel! How could you sneak up on us like that?"

"Sneak? I was coming to see Legolas. Ohhh, you must be referring to one of those skills father spoke about. I'd prefer to think of it as _stealth. Arwen, you barely have been home more than a couple of months. You have yet to see __all my capabilities. Legolas, I will see you in the morning."  With that, Estel turned on his heel and walked away without further comment. _

Legolas could not prevent a smirk. "Oh, I think that went _very_ well."

"The twins think I am a busy body. Maybe they're right. I just do not want to see the boy harmed." 

"Boy? I'll give you that chronologically he is quite young, but he looks like a full size Dunedain to me."

Arwen tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and paused a moment as if in thought. She sighed in resignation. "On one level I know you are right. I left my father's house not long after Estel arrived as a boy. Elladan and Elrohir watched the boy grow into a man. I still only see the boy. Father named him Estel and I know that he looks upon him with great hope. Though for what, I am not sure. I guess you could say that I wish to not see hope extinguished."

Arwen left soon after and Legolas settled in to the bed, yet couldn't quite find sleep. Arwen's words brought to mind Cassia's warning about protecting his companion. Arwen and Cassia's similarity in concern for his future traveling companion were more than coincidental.  Estel had to be the one that Cassia foretold of in her premonition.  Legolas felt the weight of responsibility for the life of his father and that of the young Dunedain settle heavily on his shoulders.

TBC - Coming Soon…  Chapter 5 - **_The Ambush_****__**


	5. You Never Hear The Arrow

  
Disclaimers:  See the first chapter.

_I promised action.  If it meets with your approval, I hope you R&R.  Happy Holidays!_

**Chapter 5  -You Never Hear The Arrow... **

It had been one of those nights when Estel could not recall truly ever falling completely asleep. Finally, just before dawn, he decided to give up and prepare for the trip he would take today. Instead of donning the fine, elegant lines of elven dress, he chose the dark, coarse clothing often associated with the northland rangers. The heavy, hooded cloak would afford him warmth during the mountain crossing into Mirkwood and anonymity when he needed it. 

Estel prepared a bedroll and wrapped in it spare clothing and some personal items. Though Elrond said that there would be further discussion in the morning, Estel saw no reason for further argument. It was clear that Legolas was resigned to his company for the quest. Any other members of the family and their opinions would have no influence on the path he himself had decided upon. Though he avoided voicing this concern the previous evening, he worried that the evil attacking Thranduil's royal house, if left unchecked, would later move to attack those he held most dear in Rivendell. 

* * * _ _ _ * * * _ _ _ * * *

When Estel finished gathering provisions in the pantry, he headed to the enclosed garden that served as a family room for Elrond's entire household. He was not surprised to note a lively discussion was already taking place - and he was the main topic. 

Elladan seemed to rather vocally disagree with his father that Estel go alone with Legolas to investigate Sythian's Gorge. Legolas seemed to be closely inspecting the fletching on one of his arrows. Elrohir, as usual, was biding his time and allowing his brother to take the lead in the discussion. He'd like to let his brother think that he was honoring his position in the family as oldest even if his own birth followed by a few scant minutes. In fact, Elladan might be the oldest and boldest, but Elrohir was the strategist. Arwen, oddly, was nowhere in sight. 

"Certainly he is a fine swordsman. You taught him all he knows, Father. But do you really think he is up to this quest? Elrohir and I could be ready in an hour to leave with them."

"Elladan, you forget Cassia's instructions to Legolas. He was to come for only one male of the house of Elrond. And I think that we all agree that her description fit no one other than Estel." Elrond walked over to his oldest and placed his hand on Elladan's shoulder in a soothing gesture. "I know that you hold Estel as dearly as Elrohir and your sister. We cannot measure him by elven standards and cannot hold him back from his own destiny. Nor can we do anything that could threaten the success of their mission. "

"I guess, in this family, I am forever destined to eavesdrop whenever my family is discussing my relative strengths and weaknesses." Estel made an exaggerated point to look around the room. "Arwen is not here? I would think she would be up to her elbows in a discussion of my relative youth and inexperience."

Legolas hid a smile by clearing his throat. He had to admit that he liked Estel's spirit. Perhaps what he lacked for an experience, Estel would make up for in sheer determination. He seemed to be able to hold his own with his strong-minded adopted family.   
As if to soften his words, Estel added as he approached his elven brother, "If I had the choice, I can think of no one I would rather have at my side then you, my brothers"  
"You are lucky you made nice little brother. If I thought you lacked sincerity, you would not be much use to Legolas." Elladan belied his harsh words with a chuckle that was soon joined by everyone else in the room. 

Legolas took this moment to cross the room and stand in front of the young Dunedain. "I will be glad of your company Estel. Since you take on my own troubles, I count you as my brother and promise to you and yours, I will guard your life with my own."

Estel was in no little way taken aback by such an oath from the prince on his behalf. Since he could think of no appropriate response, he nodded to acknowledge the statement and reached his hand forward to grasp the elf's and put a seal to their unusual alliance. 

* * * _ _ _ * * * _ _ _ * * *

Within the hour the two were on horseback and leaving Rivendell for the heights of the Misty Mountains. If Estel had any regret, it was that Arwen did not seem to forgive him for his impertinence in Legolas's room last night. She did not show up with the rest of the family to see him and the Prince take their leave. 

Legolas was contemplating Arwen is well. He had also noted absence and could not believe that she would hold a grudge against Estel. Her words of the previous night seemed to originate from genuine concern for the young man. Legolas had never known Arwen to be cruel or thoughtless, especially with the danger that there were heading into. There was a good chance that she might never set eyes on Estel again. Something was not right about the situation, but for the life of him, Legolas could not put his finger on what was bothering him. Soon after, his companion interrupted his train of thought. 

"When I am among the world of men, I am known as Strider. It was decided by my father and I that hiding my association with the elves of Rivendell would be safer for all concerned." Estel seemed self-conscious of this request and seemed to be staring at a point somewhere between his horse's ears.   
Legolas understood the concerns of the young Dunedain better than perhaps Estel could know. His experience with men over the years was mixed and left him cautious as well. 

"Strider is a fine name, especially for trek as long as ours will be." The elf glanced over to his companion and noted that his lips had almost softened into a smile.

* * * _ _ _ * * * _ _ _ * * *

They covered quite a distance, following up river as it led to the Misty Mountains. Cassia guaranteed that the evil that was causing his father's illness would leave him unhindered until he reached Rivendell. Legolas was on edge because now there were no guarantees. As they climbed in altitude, the temperature dropped. Legolas noted that Strider occasionally would tighten his cloak around himself to ward off the chill. They made their camp in a hollow under an outcropping.  Being still fairly close to Rivendell, Legolas thought that it might be safe to start a fire. As Strider took care the horses, Legolas gathered wood and started a small sheltered fire. Suddenly, he thought he heard a sound. He moved stealthily in the direction it seemed to come from. In the dim light, Legolas thought he saw fresh hoof prints. The rider seemed to be quite light and suddenly, Legolas understood the circumstances behind what happened that morning. He didn't like the situation, but he could see no immediate harm. He returned to the fire just in time to see Strider smooth out his bedroll.

"I'll take the first watch. I'll wake you when it's your turn," suggested the young ranger.  Strider sat on the bedroll with his back against a tree. He took his broadsword out and laid it negligently across his lap. "Sleep well Legolas." 

Legolas noted that anyone looking at the camp would think the ranger's veiled eyes were asleep. Up close, Legolas could see that they never lighted in one place for very long. With this knowledge, he felt he could sleep well tonight. 

A few hours later, Legolas took over the watch. It was completely uneventful. But that would not last for long. 

* * * _ _ _ * * * _ _ _ * * * 

The next morning, they rose before dark, ate a cold breakfast, saddled the horses and were underway in short order. They were two hours out of camp when Strider stopped his horse abruptly. Soon, he continued forward without looking at the elf, and bit out quietly, "We are being followed. One, maybe two on horseback… and a hell of a lot more on foot."

With a brief hand gesture, Legolas told Strider that he was going to move forward and off to the side.  Strider instantly knew that the elf was trying to get some distance in order to use his arrows to best advantage.  So Strider was the bait.  He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and proceeded forward.  They did not have long to wait.

Orcs burst out of the trees on either side of the path.  If Legolas had not moved forward, they might have been flanked, but their last minute maneuver may have saved their lives.  Legolas immediately started firing off arrows, which to his companion, seemed at a blazing speed - taking out the two closest orcs and giving Strider some breathing room.  

Strider's blade dipped and swung down again and again, whistling a song of death as it cleaved through the orcs who were on foot.  Legolas counted about twenty, with several on the ground and out of the fight already.  With Strider in the thick of the fray, Legolas had to slow down and pick his targets with care.  They seemed to be having some success when the unthinkable happened.

One of the orcs, possibly just a jot more intelligent than his slow witted companions, circled around and came at Strider from his right while the ranger was dealing with two others on his left.  Grasping the man's leg, the orc heaved the unsuspecting Strider off his horse.  It was the last act that orc ever accomplished in this life, as Legolas dispatched him to the hereafter with a well placed bow shot that bisected it's bony skull. 

Momentarily distracted, one orc came close enough to almost touch the elf.  Legolas's booted foot shot out, catching the orc on the point of its chin.  An arrow followed at pointblank range, so powerfully cast that it passed though the orc and embedded in the ground just before the orc fell back upon it, impaling himself yet again.  

Legolas's attention was drawn back to Strider.  His arrow had bought the young man some time to gain his footing and the ranger had wisely started to work his way to the trees on one side of the path.  While still focused on firing arrow after arrow, on one level the elf was impressed with the ferocity and skill of the Dunedain.  Yet he could see that the sheer numbers were taking there toll on the youths stamina and he could perceive a slight slowing of the blade as it swung back and forth.  

Moving his horse in closer, Legolas fought to get to the ranger as the numbers of orcs dwindled.  There were now only three orcs between himself and the ranger.  And with one more bolt, only two were left alive.  The two orcs had driven Strider to the foot of an ancient tree.  Just as Legolas was about to dispatch one of the orcs to even the battle, he heard the whistle of an arrow as it sped toward the ranger.  Taken by surprise, Legolas paused for one fateful moment.  

He heard the arrow make sickening contact with flesh.  It drove through Strider's left shoulder and pinned him to the tree.  His right arm still free, the ranger struggled to raise the broadsword to afford himself some defense.  For one heart-wrenching moment his eyes made contact with the elf.  Consumed with pain, fear and finally defiance, the elf was amazed when he caught the barest of smiles on his companion's face.  And then the most amazing thing happened.  The ranger flipped his grip on the broadsword so that he held it like a javelin and lofted it toward the elf with amazing force.  

It impaled an orc that Legolas had not seen sneaking up on him from behind.  

With lightning speed, the prince twisted his bow so that it was parallel to the ground.  He notched two shafts simultaneously and let them loose in one fluid motion.  They connected with the orcs on either side of the ranger, killing the foul smelling monsters instantly.  Falling at the ranger's feet, they had only been an arm's length from taking Strider's life seconds before.  

Legolas saw the fierce fighter sag in relief and then gasp as the movement against the arrow in his shoulder sent a bolt of pain down his arm and up though his chest.  

His face pale and shiny with sweat, Strider attempted to stretch his right hand to grasp the shaft pinning him to the tree.  Pain prevented him from reaching it and he dropped his hand back to his side with a frustrated groan.  

Favoring Legolas with a sickly smile, Strider sighed, "I think I could use your help here again."  Before the elf could dismount, a voice in the trees from the opposite side of the path broke the silence.  

"Make one move and I will kill him before your foot touches the ground."

**_TBC…_**

****


	6. Something Wicked

Disclaimers:  See the first chapter.

_I was so intent on posting the last two chapters that I didn't pause to acknowledge the words of encouragement and questions.  Reviews are the finest of holiday presents as no matter how often you take them out, they can never be broken._

_Gilby – thank you for your compliment and the frankness of your comments_

_Spacemonkey – you have more faith in me than I do myself.  I'm not yet the caliber of writer that can balance so many wonderful characters as the whole fellowship yet.  I'll leave that to the likes of FF authors like Littlefish for now, until I sharpen my knowledge of Middle Earth, the characters and my craft –If you haven't read her stories, go now!  My little tale will still be here when you get back._

_Evil Old Woman – you're a doll.  'nuff said._

_Aralondwen – good question.  After you asked I thought, nope, Estel will learn first who he is though his developing friendship with Legolas.  You gave me the idea to tackle how he finds out what he is somehow later in the story.  Suggestions?_

_Lassemista – yet another cliffie 'cause you like them so much.  I've rarely ever gotten three reviews from the same reader – it's very cool!  grinning from ear to ear_

_And so it goes…_

Chapter 6  - **_Something Wicked_**…

Whether due to the ferocity of the recent battle or sensing the evil that uttered those malevolent words, nature had retreated, leaving an eerie silent void. The only sound that Legolas could hear was the labored breathing of his companion and his own heart as it raced.  Steadying himself, he slowly turned in the direction from where the voice originated.  Legolas's first impression was that he was seeing a clothed marble statue of an archer – so bloodless and chilling were the features of the being before him.  He had the look of a mortal man, yet standing in the shaded shelter of the trees as dusk descended, the elven prince could only gather a vague impression of nothing but his sallow complexion, the deadly ebony arrow pointing unerringly at the rangers heart and his eyes.  Eyes so cold, and so lacking in any pigment, that they resembled blazing shards of ice.

Looking upon this being, the elf, normally resistant to natural cold, felt an unnatural chill to the very core of his soul.  For just a few moments the beings of light and that of unnatural darkness gazed at each other.  Legolas only broke the gaze when he heard a week cough coming from the direction of where the ranger was affixed to the tree like a fly caught in amber sap.  Fearing that the wound was more serious than he had first assessed, the elf was at least relieved to see that no blood tinged the lips of his injured friend, signifying a likely fatal piercing of his lung.

Friend?  Legolas pondered this description that had entered his thoughts unbidden for one whom he had met just over a day ago.  Then he remembered the grim smile the Ranger had dealt him before lofting his sword, his only means of defense, to kill the orc planning to take the elf unawares.  And Legolas understood.  Strider had weighed two lives in that moment and made a choice, a sacrifice that would surely have meant his life.  He had made it willingly for his comrade.  Legolas had pledged his life to Elrond's family in protection of their son and brother.  Strider had delivered on the unspoken promise Legolas had not at the time understood.  In the moment when the ranger offered his hand in response – he too had offered his life in return.  The fair elf's head tilted ever so slightly to one side as he contemplated this deceptively complex creature just over a score of years old.  He closed his eyes for a moment, his lips flattening into a grim line of resigned determination.  

A cackle rose from the pale being that held the ranger in the sights of his rock-steady bow.  To Legolas it sounded like the sharp cracking of tree limbs snapping under the weight of ice after a freezing rain.  

"Do not tell me that this _man_…" the being spoke with cold derision, "is what you rode so far to fetch."  He laughed again and added, "What could a mortal, such as this pathetic creature, do to influence the fates of ageless creatures such as you and I?"

This thing of darkness that seemed to cling to the shadows in the diminishing light, paused as if expecting a reply.  Legolas only favored him with defiant tilt of his chin. 

The bloodless being sighed to exaggerated effect.  "Since you seem to value his life, you make my task quite simple for me.  Drop your bow to the ground, dismount your horse and come to me.  My lord has bid me retrieve the Prince of Mirkwood and he will be well pleased if I bring you to him alive.  I don't think that he anticipated such a coup."

Legolas glared at the evil creature before him and then turned his eye on the ranger.  

Strider read the intent to surrender in the elf's eyes.  In pain and despair, he ground out a simple word between clenched teeth.  "No."  He moved forward, agonizingly sliding his shoulder forward a couple inches down the shaft of the arrow pinning him to the tree at his back.  

"Think twice about this choice, Ranger.  The fletching on my arrow has a surprise waiting for you that will surely shred the life this elf seems so wanting to protect."

Legolas's keen elven eyes caught the glint of metal among the black fletched feathers.  

Strider saw the danger in the same instant.  Interspersed amongst the feathers on the arrow were fine metal spikes.  The Ranger seemed to come to a decision.  His jaw clenched, his eyes shut tight, Strider tipped his head forward.

These actions telegraphed his intent to Legolas as surely as words and the elf desperately shouted, "Strider, noooo!"

The craven creature laughed in spiteful glee at the futile gesture.  

Suddenly, Strider stopped any forward momentum as he heard the whistle of a missile originating from somewhere behind him.  The creature's laughter transformed into a fearful gurgling - caused by the arrow that appeared as if by magick to be protruding from his neck.  He fell heavily into the brush and out of their sight.  

Not knowing if the attack was from friend or foe, Legolas flung himself off his horse and raced to the ranger's side.  Ignoring the pain as he grasped the shaft and made contact with one of the spikes, the elf snapped the bolt between the deadly feathers and Strider.  Now pulling the ranger into the safety of his arms, he shielded him with his own body.  Before they hit the ground, the Ranger had slipped into unconsciousness.  The prince dragged the ranger behind the tree, drew both knives from his belt and crouched over the his fallen comrade's body, as he waited to see who would emerge from the forest cover.

TBC… 

Your comments, suggestions and reviews are as always much of my inspiration.  Many thanks, as always, to all who find the time to drop a line!


	7. Revelations and Compromises

It is amazing to me with how many stories post daily on the LOTR page, that some of you have found your way to my little tale again and again.  Consider yourselves gushed upon quite profusely with my thanks!  This is my longest chapter ever!  Here's hoping it not my boringest too! 

_Kudos to a couple of you who have guessed quite wisely on whom our mystery guest is. Thanks for the emails!_

Sue – Are you an old friend from another universe?  If so, thank you for following me here.  If you are not, well, new friends open up new possibilities.  Please don't leave me in suspense, where did the arrow come from? Did it give you a hint as to who the dark creature is? ;-)  Your ideas may be better than mine!

_Lassemista – You are constant as the northern star.  I promise to let the evil cliffie plot genie out of the bottle a few more times before this tale is through._

_Aralondwen – I hope that the one behind yon tree will meet with your approval.  Naw, I'm not sure that I would know how to write slash though I've seen some really good writers pull off some really great, well rounded, slash fic.  One of the draws to writing these two characters is the deep respect and affection that they develop (it was so totally evident on screen in Two Towers).  _

_Slea – Your wish is my command… thanks so much for taking the time to review.  Each one is a little push towards finding a writer's inspiration and just getting on with it!_

Chapter 7 – **Revelations and Compromises**

The first impression he had as he came to consciousness was that of a small cylinder being pressed firmly into the palm of his hand. Another's fingers closed his tightly around the object. Confused, Strider fought to open his eyes, which seemed unnaturally heavy.  As he drew breath, to ask what had happened, the same gentle fingers touched his lips, cautioning him against speech. As he finally opened his eyes, the knife in his hand and the elf at his side came in to bleary view. The ranger realized he was lying behind a tree not far from the path. The dappled light of late afternoon in the forest had given way to early evening gloom. Before the elf could prevent it, the young man attempted to sit up. Placing his left hand on the ground, it immediately gave way as he tried to push up into a sitting position. A small gasp escaped his lips and he would have fallen back if Legolas is keen reflexes had not caught him and lowered him back to the ground. 

"Be still, my friend. You are hurt.  There may be others about who would like to do more of the same to both of us."  The wound, barely bleeding while the Ranger was pinned to the tree, immediately started flowing once Legolas freed him.  Tearing strips of cloth from his tunic, the elf folded two pads that he held to the entrance and exit wounds to try and stem the blood.  Taking the other strips, he wound them several times to maintain the pressure.  Strider gasped once.  Then the only hint of the pain he was feeling was in his ragged breathing and the tight, grim line of his lips.  Once the bandage was secure, the man made as if to rise yet again.  

Legolas could see that he would not be able to stop the injured man from regaining his feet, so he decided to help him.  Grasping the Ranger's right arm and pulling it over his shoulder, he hauled the ranger up and unceremoniously propped him up against the tree.  Shaking his head, the elf thought that this man's impetuousness must stem from a desire to hasten the end to an already comparatively short life.  

"Try to stay out of sight.  I need to find out who favored us with that well placed arrow.  He was behind us when he dispatched that foul being and now seems to have circled over to where the thing fell in the brush."

As if to confirm Legolas's statement, the two heard the softest of rustling coming from the area opposite the path.  Legolas took one forlorn look at where he dropped his bow in his rush to dismount and get to the ranger.  Squarely in the middle of the path, it might as well be twenty leagues away rather than the scant twenty feet it was in fact.  

Strider followed the elf's glance and understood how he felt as his gaze lighted on his sword impaled on an orc a few feet even further than the bow.   He looked down at the knife in his hand and glowered at it.  "Not much help to cover your retreat."

"It is not intended to be.  It is all I have to offer you in your own defense.  Surely you did not think to follow me?  You will have all you can handle just holding this tree up until I return."  Turning, Legolas proceeded down the woods, following alongside the path to stay under cover. 

Before he had gotten out of sight of the Ranger, the elf's sensitive hearing caught a gently grumbled, "infuriating elf" coming from the direction where he left the Ranger.  And he smiled.

***---***---***---***

Legolas crossed the path after passing a bend in the trail and doubled back to the place where he saw the pale archer shot and collapse.  As he had surmised, their would-be rescuer was already looking for the same thing.  And by the growing noise coming from that direction – getting more agitated by the moment.  Circling behind the hooded figure in front of him, Legolas scaled a tree and inched his way noiselessly across a limb that took him directly above it.  For a moment, the elf paused to watch the figure poke at the underbrush like it was looking for a lost brooch.  Then suddenly, he stiffened.  Where was the evil creature that led the orcs in attacking them?  With an arrow to the throat, he should have dropped like a stone where he stood.  He did fall; I saw it before going to Strider, Legolas thought to himself. 

Legolas dropped almost soundlessly to the ground behind the cloaked one and wrapped a arm around its throat in a grip of iron.  He almost lost his grip in surprise when he heard a decidedly feminine gasp before his choke hold cut off all other sound.  He released her almost immediately and then took hold of her shoulders and spun her around.

"Arwen Undomiel!  What…?"

"Legolas Greenleaf, unhand me this very instant!"  Arwen's chin tilted up and her eyes had narrowed.  Legolas let loose a broad grin as she attempted to use her most outraged, unhand-me-this-minute-you-knave look.  

"Do not tell me that this look of yours ever worked with any of your brothers?" Legolas tweaked her.

Ignoring the teasing tone of the elf, Arwen shook her head baffled, "I saw him fall, my arrow piercing his neck, yet he is not here and I can not even find a hint of blood."

Legolas had already taken all this in from his vantage point above Arwen.  "We will look for more clues at first light."

The emotions of the last fifteen minutes caught up with Arwen as she collapsed into his arms and folded him in a tight hug.  "Now that I am found out, where is Estel?  I assume he will have some words for me that you are too kind to say."

Legolas held her at arm's length to better see her face.  "Arwen, did you not see him?" And then, in answer to his own question, he added, "Of course not, you fired from behind the tree."

"See what? Legolas?"  Arwen's eyes went wide and she desperately scanned the elf's face.  Though he had schooled his features, suddenly Arwen feared the reason for her foster brother's absence.   

Legolas took Arwen's elbow and started to guide her out of the bushes.  "We must go to him…"

A soft voice called out from across the path.  "Legolas?  Fare you well?"  Then almost to himself, the ranger added, "I can wait no…longer."  

As they broke though the dense underbrush, Arwen gasped. Estel had worked his way around the tree.  His right arm holding a limb above his head for support.  As he attempted to take a step beyond the support of the tree, he fell to his knees.  Estel's shirt was open to the waist.  Blood stained the material almost to his waist.  The impromptu bandage was also already soaked through with blood.  

Strider didn't feel his knees give out.  He was only aware that the ground seemed to be coming closer.  He heard his name, as if from a great distance.  Odd that.  Legolas's voice had never seemed so high pitched before, he thought.  Then two faces, seeming lit from within and filled with concern, swam in front of his bleary eyes.  How silly, he thought abstractly, that all three of them would be kneeling on ground where only a short while ago they had been…Three?  Arwen?  

He shook his head to clear his senses and looked directly at Arwen.  Bemused, he gave voice to his confusion.  "Arwen is angry with me.  Arwen… Arwen is in Rivendell."  At this, the man slowly fell into the arms of the figment of his imagination.  

***---***---***---***

Two sets of elven hands flew over the ranger.  One pair trying to make him more comfortable and the other unwrapping the hasty bandage Legolas had earlier constructed.  Even as her deft hands cleaned and tended the wound, Arwen gave voice to her confusion at Estel's last statements.  

"Why would he believe that I was upset with him?"  Arwen's eyes were liquid pools that looked to Legolas as if they would overflow at any moment.  Elves were a strong and steadfast people.  But they were a race of great feeling for their environment and those within it.  They had an empathic relation to the world around them, which made them champions for preserving the delicate balance.  Injuries to the land or those who walked it were absorbed in their own deep-felt elven way.  

Yet Legolas's best guess would be that Arwen's unshed tears were that of a sister feeling the pain of a family member and her own pain at knowing that her brother believed that she was angry or disappointed in him.  Legolas was unsure of what words would ease her pain.  

"I was under much the same assumption when you did not come to bid us safe travel."   Arwen looked down. Legolas tipped her chin up so that he was looking him in the eye again.  "And then I remembered, your kind and gentle nature… and concluded that you were probably up to something."

Arwen greeted this last statement with a tremulous smile and added, "I waited, hidden near the city gates so that I could better follow you."

"It was our good fortune that your did."

"You call this good fortune?  It feels like she's trying to push her fingers right though my shoulder."  Strider murmured these words, while his eyes still remained shut.  

"Obviously, you are better than we thought if you have the energy to babble nonsense."  Arwen new that there was little truth to her words.  Estel had begun to shiver and his skin as pale and clammy to the touch.  

"We need to get him to shelter and a fire as soon as possible.  The bleeding has slowed, but the wounds need to be cleaned and stitched as soon as possible."  

Legolas was not keen about building a fire so soon after being attacked, but he saw few options.  Strider seemed to feel the cold more than elves did under normal circumstances.  Injured, they could loose him if they were not able to keep him warm.  

Arwen stood and motioned down the path.  "I seem to remember that there were some caves not far down this path.  Do you think that you could help him mount in front of me?"

"Yes, of course."  Legolas turned to the ranger.  "Strider, do you think that you could ride with Arwen and keep your seat?  We do not have to far to go."

Strider set unfocused eyes upon the elf.  "I can do what I have to."  He reached his right arm up and Legolas grasped it and pulled him to a standing position as Arwen brought her horse closer to the pair.  Arwen mounted the horse first, a dappled gray mare whose delicacy mirrored that of her lady's.  Gesturing to put the injured man in front of her, Arwen wrapped her legs tightly around the mare in preparation to assist Legolas to haul up the injured rider.  If he passed out again, she wanted to be able to hold him steady with both arms.  Well schooled, her horse would know what direction she intended by a simple squeeze from one knee or the other.  

Legolas wove his fingers together and the ranger placed his left foot atop them to be boosted up onto the horse.  Grasping the horses mane to give himself some leverage, the ranger felt small, deceptively strong hands circle his waist and tug him in position. 

As they proceeded forward, Arwen was unreasonably annoyed at Estel.  He held her mare's mane in an iron grip in an attempt to hold himself straight on the horse.  Within a few minutes she could see that that even this small effort was taking its toll.  His head nodded loosely and slowly his shoulders hunched closer and closer to the mare's neck.

"For pities sake Estel, lean back against me and rest.  _Mir_* is becoming restless with all your bobbing and swaying."  She reached out her hands and grasped his shoulders to pull him back against her.  

Estel made a token resistance, adding.  "I am heavy, Arwen.  I feel the darkness closing in on me again and would not unbalance you or cause you harm."

"Arrogant boy," Arwen chuckled softly, "Though big for a man, you are only of a fair to middling size in relation to an elf and I am not some weak-kneed Dunedain lass.  It would take something bigger than the likes of you to unseat _me_."  She reached for him again and pulled him back with no resistance this time.  

An almost imperceptible sigh escaped the ranger's lips as he rested against her, soaking in her warmth.  "Thank you, _Undomiel_," he breathed softly.  Within a few moments, Estel had given in to that threatening darkness, his head leaning back.  Arwen brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face and wrapped an arm about his waist, securing him against her, happy that he could not see how she struggled to keep her chin above his broad shoulders as she tried to keep an eye on the trail.

Legolas took one last sweeping look at their surroundings, trying to assure himself that they were alone.  Then he too mounted his horse, swinging himself onto Taurtathar in one smooth movement.  She knew her caretaker's desire and headed out to follow the others ahead of her.

***----***----***----***

When they finally arrived, the cave that they settled on was little more than a hollow in the side of the cliff rising above them.  But it offered good ventilation for a fire and shelter from the shrill wind that stole down from the nearby mountains.  Strider gamely lifted his left leg over Mir's neck and attempted to slide off.  Fortunately, Legolas was near to prevent the rest of the man following his feet as they hit the ground.  He grabbed Strider's good right arm and tugged it securely over his shoulder.  Arwen tucked his injured left arm into his tunic and wrapped her arm once again around his waist.  Though not fully conscious, the ranger's legs seemed to know what was expected and planted themselves doggedly, one in front of the other, until they reached the cave.

Creating a simple pallet, Arwen brushed leaves into a pile that had blown into the cave and spreading a blanket over the soft crackling mound.  They lowered Strider onto the makeshift bed and covered him with blankets.  

Arwen went to gather wood for the fire that they would need for light and heat before they could do anything about suturing the ranger's wounds.

Legolas turned out the horses, admonishing them to stay nearby for their own safety.  The elven horses, having no intention of becoming an orc's dinner, agreed.  Taurtathar knew well that her companion relied on her to sound an alarm if something unexpected drew near.  The four horses settled in front of a clump of sweet grass and munched contentedly. 

Arwen took out her healer's kit and threaded a fine spider silk.  Methodically, she drew the angry edged sides of the wound together and stitched them together, grateful that Estel was still unconscious.  Legolas helped her hold the ranger as she sowed the exit wound.  After placing healing herbal poultices on each wound, she bandaged the whole securely.  Legolas then tenderly laid the man back on the pallet.  

Placing a warm cup of tea in Arwen's trembling hand, he realized that under her quietly competent façade, Arwen was quite shaken by the events of the day.  

When she finally spoke, Arwen's careworn features grew animated.  "You two are not gone two full days and look at what has happened."

The elf tried to interrupt, "Arwen…"

"Legolas, this is exactly what I feared.  He is ill prepared for the dangers that you two will face."  Almost to herself, she added, "I must think of a way to get him back to Rivendell safely."

His voice more stern this time, Legolas broke though Arwen's thoughts.  "What you saw today does not paint the entire portrait of what transpired, princess. Did you not look to see how many orcs lay rotting because of a swordsman's cut rather than an archer's shaft?"

Arwen looked intently at her friend.  Not sure where this conversation was leading, she pulled a shaky hand through her hair that had escaped it's now loosened braid.  Taking a breath to interrupt - she was stopped when Legolas placed his hand on her shoulder.  

In a more quiet voice, he continued, "Hear me out Arwen. Your fostered brother fought valiantly and with amazing skill.  I would not be alive to tell you this if not for his sacrifice."

Starting at the beginning, Legolas laid out the entire battle and did not spare the details.  She even gasped when he told of how the ranger launched the sword at the elf and how even he was not sure of Strider's intent until it flew past and impaled the orc intent on killing the elf.  He then described the dark one and how he held the man's life hostage.  Pulling the broken pieces of the arrow, the only clue to the stranger's identity, Legolas passed them over to Arwen.  Arwen's eyes widened as she noted the metal spikes amongst the fletching.

"Even knowing that sure death waited for him at the end of that arrow, he was ready to pull himself off that shaft to prevent me from surrendering to the dark one.  It was only your arrow flying over his shoulder and hitting the creature that prevented him from carrying though with his deed."

Arwen turned to look at Estel.  Laying there, his face in repose, she could almost see the face of the child that had been left in her father's care so many years ago.  As she, tenderly pulled up the covers over his chest, the vision of youth vanished and only the man who pledged himself to the elven prince remained.  Sadly she let go of the child and accepted the man.

Legolas once more interrupted her thoughts.  "He is a man of great heart that I have rarely encountered amongst men, Arwen.  I am honored that he travels at my side."

"You're not so bad with that bow and all, either." 

"Infuriating man."  Legolas echoed Strider from earlier in the evening.  "I imagine now that you will be insufferable to travel with.  Will we need the spare horse to carry your ego along with us?"

"One horse will be quite adequate."  The ranger felt his left arm tightly bound to his chest.  The sharp pain had dulled to a softer throb no doubt due to Arwen's herbs.  "We leave on the morrow."

"For Rivendell?"  Arwen asked half-heartedly.

Two masculine voices chorused, "No!"

For the first time, it seemed, Arwen turned to Estel and tried to reason with him instead of negotiating with Legolas.  "Estel, you need time to heal before you are ready to continue."

"I will be ready to ride on the morrow.  It's my shoulder and not my rear that took the arrow,' he teased her.

"We will stay here for this night and one more, to give you time to gain your strength.  Your sister may think you are a lightweight, but by all that is sacred, I will not be carrying your swooning carcass across the Misty Mountains."  Strider did not have time to respond, for Arwen dropped her ultimatum.  The faces of the elf and man mirrored the same disbelief – as if someone had dropped an orc in front of the fire and asked him to take tea with them.  

"Then I go with you or follow behind.  It's your choice."  After Arwen's simple statement, you could have cut the silence with Strider's broadsword.  In the silence and her nervousness, she added hastily, "It would not go against Cassia's prophecy.  You did only leave Rivendell with one male of the house of Elrond."

The ranger swiped a shaky right hand over his face.  "This has all the marks of Elrohir's plotting.  I should have known he was far too quiet while Elladan was arguing with Elrond."

Arwen gasped.  "Estel, how…?"

"I know my brothers. Although when I see Elrohir, he will be sorry that he ever made my acquaintance." 

Arwen's laughter trilled throughout the cave and its sound wrung smiles from the two weary fighters.  

Legolas shook his head.  "I hope to Valar that taking two bickering siblings along will indeed guarantee our victory, for I am sure that sanity will be forfeit to assure our success."

Arwen and Strider look at each other and for once were in total agreement as they laughed heartily at the elven prince's expense.  

TBC…

*Mir is Sindarin for "Jewel"

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	8. The Charm of a Fallen Hero

_Larus – I'm glad you are along for the ride.  This chapter is a little more character and a little less action.  Hope you don't mind too much.  I have 11 whole days off - starting today!!  Woo hoo! So I expect to throw a little more action your way soon!_

_Ladywinter – in my universe Arwen has only just returned to meet a grown Estel.  Hope you don't mind if this is a bit slow in the romance department  (maybe not even in this story.  I enjoy having a strong female character to write, but I'm just as intrigued - if not more so - by portraying the new and growing relationship with Legolas.) I really appreciate your faith that I could write a decent romance. _

_Lassemista – glad I still have a few tricks up my sleeve for you!_

_Aralondwen – I love action and a sense of humor.  The tightest scrapes I've been in have always been made a little more bearable by sharing a sense of humor.  I try a little more in this chapter that is really little more than an interlude.  Hope you approve._

_Sue – Adventure beyond the earth or in Middle Earth.  If you are familiar with Campbell's writings they are all the Hero With a 1000 Faces.  So glad you are along for the ride.  Have you written anything?  You never log in so I've always been curious…_

_Slea – Eeek, I'm just learning about adjectives and compound sentences after having them beat our of me years ago pursuing a journalism degree.  That is just the sweetest compliment – you just don't know.  Making most of this up as I go (god bless all the wonderful Tolkien research materials) is the scariest thing I've ever done!_

Chapter 8 – **The Charm of a Fallen Hero**

The dawn broke in filtered shafts of light through the trees surrounding the small cave.  Arwen and Legolas were already about the camp.  She was tending to the horses as Legolas set out to forage for edibles.  If he was lucky, Legolas mused, he might return with something substantial.  The ranger would need a couple of hearty meals to aid in healing. 

Very unlike himself in normal circumstances, Strider still slept instead of arising before sunrise, as he was wont to do.  Arwen had woken him once during the night, quite patient with his half-hearted grumbling as she made him drink an infusion that would prevent fever.  As she gathered more wood or the fire, she smiled at the memory of their brief conversation.

***---***---***---***

Arwen sat on the floor beside him, holding a small wooden cup in her hand.  She gently shook the ranger's good shoulder, bidding him softly to wake up.  

"I have a draught that you must drink to prevent fever, Estel.  Can you sit up for just a moment?  Then you will be able to get your fill of sleep once again."

The young man favored Arwen with a groggy, yet skeptical glance.  "Now that you have a ready patient, I doubt that you can prevent yourself from experimenting with me while I am too weak to protest."

Arwen's gentle nature could not be so easily abused as she wryly smiled.  "You must not be that weak, as it seems that you have not failed to protest every waking moment since you were injured."

Even exhausted, the ranger could appreciate Arwen's ready wit.  "Noble.  Noble injuries.  Remember what Legolas said."

Arwen's laughter chimed like silver bells.  "It figures that you overheard that story.  Father should have named you _Ears_ instead of _Hope_."

Estel looked up at Arwen, radiant with amusement, and thought, at that moment, he could stay up the rest of the night if only he could continue to provide her with laughter that would light up this gloomy cave.   Surely he could need no other tonic. 

"Imagine my surprise at being allowed the chance to hear someone extol my virtues rather than my flaws – for a change."

Arwen put a finger to her lips as if in thought.  "Indeed.  I had not thought what a rare occurrence that would be for you."  She tipped her head down and favored him with a mischievous smile with lash-veiled eyes.  

It was Estel's turn to chuckle at his sister's droll humor.  "Enough!  I beg you."  He struggled to rise with his good right arm.  Arwen's arm braced him from behind and helped him rise.  "Where is this medicine?  Would that it could heal my ego as your barbs have surely found their mark."

Arwen slid behind him to support Estel as he sat up. She handed him the healing tea.  Estel had but taken only one small sip when his face puckered up with disgust.    

"This tastes like brackish water passed over the leavings of already smoked Halfling's leaf."  

"Truly?  I imagine that you would know."  Pausing for effect she soon continued.  "Elrohir mentioned a story once about you, a tavern, a fistfight and something about a spittoon."  Startled and attempting to say something in reply, Estel's mouth fell open and Arwen unceremoniously tipped the rest of the contents of the cup into his mouth.  

Sputtering, the man swallowed the last of the draught.  Already the contents had begun its work.  A sleepy warmth seeped into his limbs as he relaxed into Arwen's awaiting arms.  As she lowered him back down onto the improvised pallet, he looked up at her though eyes glazed with approaching slumber.  

"Did I mention that I was going to kill Elrohir when next we meet?"

"Yes, Estel, I believe that you mentioned something to that effect earlier."

A quite yawn, barely a sigh, escaped his lips as he added, "I don't imagine I could get the satisfaction of killing him twice."

Almost before the last word escaped his mouth, Estel was soundly asleep.  Smiling gently, Arwen pulled the blankets up to the ranger's chin and smoothed his unruly hair from his face.  

Maybe for the first time Arwen was beginning to see what her father and her friend Legolas saw in this youth.  

"Rest dear one. You will need all your strength if you are going to take on our older brother."  She added, with the wonder of first clarity, "You are cherished more than you know… or I expected."

TBC…


End file.
